


where the music's playing

by marvellingyou (tourmalinex)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dorks in Love, First Dance, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Skype, everyone supports steve and bucky getting together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourmalinex/pseuds/marvellingyou
Summary: He hadn’t heard directly from Bucky, only receiving updates from either Shuri or T’Challa. From the sound of it, Bucky was doing well; and it wasn’t that Steve didn’t trust the royal family’s word. He just wanted,needed, to see for himself.Or, Steve and Bucky start to skype each other on a regular basis.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam helped Steve set up Skype on his laptop and on his phone. Despite meeting gods from other worlds and fighting off an alien invasion, some aspects of technology continued to perplex him.

“Alright, so your account’s set up.” Sam said, turning the laptop towards Steve. “You already have his username?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Steve ran a hand through his hair. His heart was racing and his cheeks had a light shade of red to them. Sam took notice and cocked an eyebrow, unsure what to make of it.  

“What’s up? You nervous or somethin’?”

“I don’t know…” Steve bit his lower lip, his heart pounding through his chest. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Sam cracked a smile. “You’re probably just worried about him.”

_Maybe that’s it._

“I’m gonna head out. Got another group at the VA this afternoon. Catch you later.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Left to his own devices, Steve made himself a cup of coffee before settling down at the dining table. Sam was right, in a way. He hadn’t heard directly from Bucky, only receiving updates from either Shuri or T’Challa. From the sound of it, Bucky was doing well; and it wasn’t that Steve didn’t trust the royal family’s word. He just wanted, _needed_ , to see for himself. The idea of visiting in person came across Steve’s mind, but it was quickly dismissed. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm Bucky.

Steve brought the laptop closer to him, then clicked on “Add Contact.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then typed in the name Shuri had given him, **_whitewolf1917_ **.

To his surprise, Bucky accepted the friend request in a matter of seconds.

 

 **Bucky Barnes**  

> hey steve  
>  so how does this work  
>  i’m still not used to this  
>  shuri’s helping me out

 

**Steve Rogers**

> At least you have help. Sam just left so I’m on my own.

 

**Bucky Barnes**

> i can start the call  
>  shuri’s asking if we’re facecamming

 

Before he could even check to see if he was presentable, the screen flashed, alerting him of an incoming call. _Crap_. He didn’t have a choice, right? Steve clicked on the “answer with video” option while he still had the confidence.

“Hey, Steve.”

Bucky gave him a small smile, but Steve was sure that his screen wasn’t doing any justice to how brilliant he must of looked in person. Sure, Bucky’s dark, long locks were in disarray, but for the most part, he looked well-rested, at peace. Steve couldn’t tell if it was a figment of his imagination, but he could have sworn that even Bucky’s eyes were shining brighter, just like they had in their youth.

 _Oh, sweet mother of God_.

“H-Hey Buck. How’ve you been?”

“I feel… pretty good actually.” Bucky adjusted himself, sitting up straighter. “I’m at Shuri’s lab. She’s young, but she’s a _genius_. I thought this century already had amazing technology, but over here… they definitely took it miles further.”

Steve chuckled. “And here I am, still trying to adjust like the old man I am. Did you eat already?”

“Not yet. My appetite isn’t really back yet.” When Bucky saw Steve frown, he shook his head. “I mean, I’m not… not eating. I’m just eating small stuff and drinking a lot of this herbal tea thing.” Bucky lifted up a small ceramic cup and brought it to his lips, taking a sip. “At first it was too bitter, but I got used to it.”

“Well, you got your tea, and I got my coffee.” Steve brought his mug into view. “Congrats on the journey to recovery, Buck.” Both of them smiled and took a celebratory sip.

“I couldn’t do it alone. Without T’Challa, Shuri, their doctors… and you. Who knows what would have happened to me.” Bucky leaned back in his chair. “I still have nightmares, but I’m pretty sure that’s a normal thing.”

“Still, I’m glad you’re doing better.” Steve took another sip of coffee. “So... what’re your days like?”

“I just help out with the farms, take care of the animals.” Bucky looked over towards his left. “Kinda hard to do with one arm, but Shuri and T’Challa are working on a new one. What about you? What are you doin’ these days?”

“Let’s see… I went on a morning run with Sam, who’s still determined to outrun me. Then he came over, put Skype on my laptop and on my phone, then left to host a group session.” Steve shrugged. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do later, though. Might do some reading. Nat said something about Thai food, and how I still haven’t tried it. So she’s probably gonna drag me out of my apartment.”

“You should go and have fun. And let me know how the food is since I haven’t tried it either.”

_“Sergeant Barnes, we’re ready for you.”_

The voice caught Bucky’s attention off screen. “Oh, okay.” Bucky looked back at Steve, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. “Sorry this was short Steve, but gotta go. I can message you later? Is that okay?"

“Okay. Talk to you later, jerk.”

Bucky snorted. “See you, punk.”

Steve closed his laptop, his heart nearly pounding through his chest. Time had passed them, from one century to another. But now that Bucky was rid of HYDRA’s control, Steve hoped for them to fall back into their old dynamic. Not entirely, however, because that’s far too selfish and unrealistic (at least, that’s what Steve convinced himself). But something close, or maybe something _more_.

After finishing the rest of his coffee, Steve pulled out his phone. Even though he got to see Bucky, the space in his chest that was filled with excitement and happiness had become devoid of either feeling. Now, there was just loneliness. Ridiculous. Steve buried his face in his hands.

_God, get a grip on yourself, Rogers. What's gotten into you?_

He sat back, and picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts. Maybe dinner with Natasha wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

**Steve Rogers**

>  Hey, Nat. I think I’ll take you up on that Thai food offer. Is tonight too short of a notice?

 

 **Natasha Romanov**  

> Tonight’s fine. I’ll come by and pick you up. How’s 7 sound?

 

 **Steve Rogers**   

> Okay. See you later.

 

 **Natasha Romanov**  

> K.

 

Knowing that he had some sort of plan put Steve at ease. But the emptiness still scratched at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, my first stucky fic ~~please be gentle~~. I hate that sorta out of nowhere, my feels intensified for this ship so now I got a vortex of ideas in my head. Sorry if there's any mistakes--I was so freakin' tired when I was writing this. Here's to the first one *[raises glass](https://i.gifer.com/FSDW.gif)*
> 
> Come scream with me on [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com/) as we await Endgame


	2. Chapter 2

**Bucky Barnes**

> hey steve  
>  what are you doing

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey Bucky!  
>  I’m doing some reading  
>  So much has happened I still haven’t caught up with everything  
>  What about you?

**Bucky Barnes**

> i forgot to tell you one of the goats had a baby  
>  hold on

**Steve Rogers**

> That’s adorable  
>  Does it have a name?

**Bucky Barnes**

> not yet  
>  the kids are gonna come up with one

**Steve Rogers**

> Kids?

**Bucky Barnes**

> their parents maintain the farms  
>  the kids like to mess with me

**Steve Rogers**

> They probably just like you

**Bucky Barnes**

> sure let’s go with that  
>  by the way  
>  i’m sorry for leaving the call so soon

**Steve Rogers**

> It’s okay, Buck

**Bucky Barnes**

> can i call you again the same time tomorrow?

**Steve Roger**

> Sure, I’m free then.
> 
> ...  
>  Hey Buck? Shouldn’t you be asleep?

**Bucky Barnes**

> probably  
>  but i had a hard time staying asleep

**Steve Rogers**

> What time is it over there?

**Bucky Barnes**

> around 4  
>  the sun isn’t up yet

**Steve Rogers**

> GO.  
>  TO.  
>  SLEEP.

**Bucky Barnes**

> fine ma  
>  i’ll try

* * *

Natasha was never late, a quality that Steve appreciated. When Steve went down to meet her, he was amazed at how Natasha could make casual look so _good_. Her black shawl sweater draped over her deep green blouse flawlessly. Meanwhile, Steve felt like an idiot for not having as much class with his simple blue button down.

 “You could’ve warned me,” he said with a small laugh. “I didn’t know our date night was gonna to be on the fancier side of things.”

 "It’s just a casual dinner, Steve,” Natasha chuckled. “Besides, you look nice. And who knows? Maybe we'll run into someone who thinks you’re cute.”

 “Oh, please,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I still don’t think I’m quite ready for anything Nat.”

 “We’ll see.” Natasha motioned with her head. “C’mon, the place isn’t that far.”

New York nights were one of Steve’s favorite things. Although though the sky darkened, signalling for people to wind down, New Yorkers never stopped going about their way. They continuously filled the streets, as if they were the heartbeat of the city itself. When Steve feels his screeching solitude the most, he peers through his apartment window and watches quietly. He can hear the people’s laughter from five floors up, and it never fails to put him back in time if only for a moment. While he missed _his_ Brooklyn, this one distracted him from all the white noise in his head.

Steve realized Natasha wasn't kidding—the restaurant was _ridiculously_ close to his apartment. When he thought back on it, he used to pass by the restaurant on his morning runs, before he changed up the route. The venue itself had a cozy atmosphere with soft lights and a warm palette of reds, oranges and yellows. After being shown to their seats, Steve picked up the menu. 

“I can’t believe you still haven’t been here," Natasha said. 

“I don't know. There’s something about cooking at home.”

“I assume you haven’t set off any smoke alarms?”

“Not quite…” A bashful pink spread across Steve’s face. “There may have been an incident involving boeuf bourguignon that was left in the oven. By the time I got to it, everything was burnt and stuck to the casserole dish.”

“Excuse me.”

The waitress was tall in stature and kept her dark hair in a neat ponytail. She brought two glasses and a pitcher of water. “My name is Jocelyn, and I’ll be your server this evening. Aside from water, are there any drinks I can start you on?”

“I’ll take a thai iced tea,” Natasha said. “What about you, Steve?”

“Just water is fine,” he said, smiling.

“I’ll be right back with your drink. If you have any questions, feel free to flag me down!”

As Jocelyn walked away, tending to another table, Steve pulled out his phone. He wasn’t entirely sure why, though he supposed at some point he picked up the habit after observing people doing it on a constant basis, whether they were on the bus or walking around.

“So,” Natasha began after putting down her menu. “When are you going to tell me about what’s bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” Steve tilted his head, confused. “I’m fine.”

Natasha flashed him a smirk. “Uh huh. And that’s why you took out your phone?”

Now he just felt rude. “Oh, sorry Nat.”

“It’s okay.” Natasha took a sip of water. “Just as long as you tell me what’s up.”

Steve shook his head. "Nothin's bothering me. But, uhh... I started talking to Bucky on Skype.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Natasha tucked her hair behind her ear. “How’s that working out?”

“We just started today. The time difference is gonna be hard to deal with.” Steve laughed, probably louder than he meant to. He scrolled through the messages. “Apparently, he helps out on the farms.”

Natasha smiled softly. “Looks like he’s having a good time.”

“Yeah.” Steve tucked his phone back into his pocket. “I’m really happy for him.” Although he didn’t notice, Natasha smirked at him.

“Are you thinkin’ about visiting Bucky? I’m sure he’d like to see you.”

“I… Maybe in a few months? I’ll talk to T’Challa about it.” Steve leaned back in his seat. “See? Nothing botherin’ me. Things are goin’ well.”

“Mmhmm.” Natasha brought the glass of water back up to her lips. “I guess I’ll let him figure it out,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

But before Steve could inquire any further, Jocelyn returned, ready to take their order.

* * *

**Bucky Barnes**

> hey steve  
>  i know you’re sleeping  
>  well i hope you’re sleeping  
>  just wanted to say i’m glad we can talk even if it’s like this  
>  sweet dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Hope this was alright. Comments and kudos clear my skin and water my crops!


	3. Chapter 3

At some point, Sam taught Steve how to make custom ringtones on his cell and his phone. Since Sam introduced him to Marvin Gaye, it was only natural for him to be assigned “Got To Give It Up.” When Natasha caught wind of this, she requested that her ringtone be “Toxic” by Britney Spears. Sam raised an eyebrow, bewildered, only to get a small chuckle from the red head—there was probably an inside joke he was unaware of. For some reason, Clint  _ begged _ for his ringtone to be “One Week” by Barenaked Ladies — and to Steve’s surprise, they were neither naked or ladies. For Bruce, “Relax,” Frankie Goes to Hollywood. For Tony, “Rocket Man,” Elton John. Thor didn’t have a phone, but Sam said he’d keep a list of songs just in case, though he was fond of “Thunder” by Imagine Dragons. At Sam’s  _ insistence _ , it was only right to assign T’Challa “Jungle Boogie,” by Kool & the Gang. With Peter Parker, Steve drew a blank, given that he only met the kid a handful of times, though “Mr. Brightside” was suggested for being meme worthy — whatever the hell that meant.

Now, all that was left was Bucky, and he was stumped. Should he pick something from the 30s? 40s? Or something contemporary? Either way, he could think about it later. His stomach growled, begging for food.

Steve heaved a sigh before deciding to make lunch. He opened up the cabinet, somewhat disappointed by the lack of ingredients. Well, more like he lacked the creativity of making a meal without a recipe. Truly, the 21st century had spoiled him with all the food options, and Steve wouldn’t dare go back to the sad, mushy meals of the Great Depression era. Just thinking about all the boiled potatoes sent shivers down his spine. 

_ Bzz bzz! _

Steve tilts his head, his eyes travelling to his phone on the counter. He saw the icon flashing on his screen and smiled. A few days ago, Bucky had sent a selfie with some of his goats in the background.

“You better appreciate this, punk,” Bucky said, almost laughing. “You have no idea how many of those things I fucked up. Shuri wouldn’t stop laughing at me.”

Steve knew all too well about the complications of selfies. At first, he struggled with angles and lighting. But even when he had  _ that _ right, sometimes his hand would shake, thus producing a blurry picture. 

Bucky’s selfie, on the other hand was immaculate. His long, dark locks framed his face perfectly, and those eyes — _ god _ , those eyes. Steve could tell from the way they shined, from the way the corners creased, that Bucky was happier. He hadn’t seen that smile like  _ that _ in so long.  

**Bucky Barnes**

> hey steve  
>  are you busy

Steve picked up his phone. Lunch could wait a few seconds.

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey Buck!  
>  I’m free. What’s up?

**Bucky Barnes**

> i’m bored  
>  do you wanna video call

**Steve Rogers**

> Yeah!

As always, Bucky called immediately after Steve gave the okay. Honestly, it was so fucking endearing. Steve chuckled as he accepted the call.

“Hey, can you see me?”

Bucky’s end of the call was dark, to the point where Steve could barely make out the brunette’s silhouette. 

“Not really. What time is it over there?”

He can hear Bucky shuffling around in the dark, until finally, a soft light illuminates his face. Seeing Bucky in that light, dim but emphasizing those gray eyes, it was as if Steve was thrown back into the 30s, when he and Bucky shared a small apartment with him, and the lamp post shone through their thin curtain.

“Around 8. Why?”

Steve shrugged. “Just wondering. Did you eat dinner?”

“Yeah, just had some stew. Drinkin’ some tea.” Bucky lifted a cup to his lips. “Did you have lunch yet?”

“About that…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still trying to figure out what to eat. I don’t really want take out and I don’t feel like goin’ outside.”

Bucky hummed. “You got pasta? You can do anything with pasta.”

“Think so…” But no sauce, and nothing to make sauce.  _ Unless… _ Steve snapped his fingers. “Got it! I know exactly what I’ll make.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Hold on a sec.” Steve grabbed a box of spaghetti from the cabinet and a large pot. “Okay, so there was this dish Sam made once. All I gotta do is boil pasta and cook garlic in some oil.” After filling up the pot with water, Steve sprinkled in a generous pinch of salt. After brushing his fingertips on his pants, the blond propped his phone on the coffee maker.

“So… here’s a thought.” Steve said. “You could watch me cook? If you don’t think it’s boring, I mean.”

Bucky snorted. “As if I’m gonna let you go hungry. Go ahead. Do you cook a lot?”

Steve shrugged. “Not really. But I think I should more often. I’m willing to bet that you’re the better chef.”

“It’s not really much of a competition, Stevie.” Bucky smirked. “I’d easily wipe the floor with you.”

“Oh?” Steve asked, chuckling. “Is that a challenge?”

“Like you’re one to back off from from a fight.”

“You got me there.”

From then, they spend a few moments in a comfortable silence, one that was familiar, that was  _ home _ . Decades ago, in that small, almost pathetic excuse of an apartment they shared, Bucky’s nose would be stuck between the pages of a book as Steve gently glided his brush against the canvas. They didn’t need words back then, and they certainly didn’t need them now, even if they were on opposite sides of the world. 

_ Just like old times _ , Steve thought as he cut some cloves of garlic into thin slices.

“So whatcha hummin’?”

Steve glanced over to his phone. “Huh, didn’t realize it.”

“Sounds familiar.” Bucky rubbed his hand against his cheek. “Oh!  _ I love coffee, I love tea _ !”

“ _ I love the java jive and it loves me _ .”

Bucky’s laugh was one of the sweetest things Steve heard. Just hearing his friend be so at ease made his ears burn and his heart skip a beat.

“Oh god,” Bucky began. “Remember that one time, I burned the eggs and broke one of our cups?”

Steve snickered at the memory. “Yeah, you got a little too into the song.” Steve turned on another burner, placing a pan on top and poured in some olive oil. “You felt so bad, you drank out of a bowl.”

“It was my fault. Like I was gonna let you drink from a bowl like a degenerate.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for preserving my honor, jerk.”

“Punk.” Bucky sighed in content, it seemed. Maybe Steve’s mind was playing tricks on him. “Y’know, this is kinda nice.”

“What? Remembering that I wasn’t the only klutz?” Steve shifted from side to side, placing the pasta into the boiling water and the garlic into the pan.

“No, this.” Bucky nodded towards Steve. “Just watchin’ you. It’s kinda like I’m there.”

“Yeah.” A smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s lips. “It’s really nice.” 

The rest of Steve’s cooking went off without a hitch. Thankfully, the garlic didn’t burn, though it was a close call. Bucky chided him in jest, knowing that Steve would get flustered. Steve made it worse by nearly burning his tongue—he was hungry, and who could deny the smell of garlic?

“Is it any good?” Bucky asked.

Steve paused. Meals taste better with others, right? And as simple as his lunch was, Steve would want to share it with Bucky. He twirled his fork, gathering a heaping bite of pasta and held it up to his phone.

“You tell me,” Steve said. “Open up.”

Bucky gave him a toothy grin. “God you’re such a sap.” He obliged anyways, pretending to take a bite. He chewed, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know. I think there’s room for improvement.”

“Shut up,” Steve said, laughing. 

“But I’m sure it tastes good, like most things this century.” Bucky leaned back, stretching and letting out a yawn. “I’m gonna let you enjoy your lunch. Tomorrow’s goat milking day, so I should get up early.”

“Ooh, that sounds  _ fun _ .” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, then smiled. “Talk to you later, punk.”

“G’night, jerk. Don’t let the goats bite.”

After hanging up, Steve managed to finish all of the pasta, not that it was unusual with his metabolism. Cleaning up didn’t prove to be difficult, given that he only had a few things to wash. As he soaped up the sponge, Steve caught himself humming again, then singing softly, unaware of the lyric change he made.

“ _ I love Bucky, I love tea. I love the java jive and it loves me. Coffee and tea, and Bucky and me. A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup…” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo another chapter! Sorry to the garlic haters, but I’m a slut for garlic. Anyhow, this chapter was inspired by a habit my partner and I do when we skype. We pretend to feed each other, because we’re grade a, fda approved dorks and being 3000 miles apart is a pain. Hopefully y’all thought this was cute, too. As I was writing this chapter, I kept thinking of “Oh my God, I Think I Like You” from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, but obviously we’re not going that route of fuck buddies falling in love (but maybe another fic!). Also it’s past 1am for me, so forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes. I’ll fix it up after I get some sleep.
> 
> Comments and kudos gives me joy and waters my crops! I might post a one shot before updating this fic, so be on the lookout I guess?? If you want you can scream with me on [tumblr](http://www.marvelling-you.tumblr.com) as we await Endgame. See y’all next update!


	4. Chapter 4

Summer changed into fall with a blink of an eye. Bucky was far from enthusiastic about starting the second grade in a new school. His mother tried to reassure him, saying that he would make new friends, but that was a given. Bucky talked to everyone, so there’d be no short supply of opportunity. Sure enough, on the first half of the first day, his class was curious about the new kid on the block. To their disappointment, Bucky wasn’t from another state—he was a New Yorker, just like them. It just so happened he moved from one side of the city to the other. But that didn’t stop the ol’ Barnes Charm from working. That is, until the attention shifted to a commotion on the other side of the schoolyard.

“Henry O’Malley, you give Louie back his lunch right now!”

“Scram, pipsqueak! This ain’t any of ya business!”

Bucky stood up to get a better look at the ruckus. From what he could tell, a small, sandy-haired boy had his fists raised up against a much bigger redhead holding a blue lunchbox.

“Hey, Tommy.” Bucky said to one of his classmates. “Who’s that kid?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “That’s Rogers. He’s always gettin’ in trouble.

”The boy—Rogers?—stomped his foot on the ground with a small huff. “Give it back or else!”

“Or else?” Henry laughed. Without any second thoughts, he stepped forward and pushed the smaller boy, knocking him to the ground. “Whatcha gonna do about it, short stack?”

Rogers stood back up and resumed his fighting stance. This time, he took a swing at Henry, though from where Bucky stood, it didn’t look like he made a strong impact.

“Yer not so tough!” Henry’s fist went swinging, hitting Rogers’ face. The blonde was knocked to the ground, this time, blood dripping from his nose. Before he could even get up, Henry crouched down and hit him again, landing his punch on Rogers’ left cheek.

Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? This poor kid was getting pummeled like there was no tomorrow, and everyone is just _watching_. Bucky wasn’t sure when the courage vaulted out of his mouth, but he knew for damn sure he wasn’t going to let this go on.

“Hey!” Bucky shouted, marching over towards Henry. “Pick on someone your own size!”

He charged forward, knocking Henry down, saving Rogers’ from taking another hit. Bucky didn’t hold back and punched Henry as hard as possible, landing one! Two! Three! Three hits to the face!

“Alright! Alright!” Henry raised his hands in defense. “Here’s the stupid lunchbox.” Bucky smiled, knowing he won. He stood up and brushed off his shirt as Henry set down the lunchbox and ran off. Meanwhile, Rogers slowly rose, trying to regain his balance.

“I coulda handled him,” he said, trying to sniff the blood back to his nose.

Bucky patted Rogers’ shoulder and grinned. “I know. But every hero needs a sidekick.”

In the corner of his view, Bucky noticed another boy approaching the lunchbox—probably Louie.

“Th-Thank you, Steve,” he said quietly. Steve. So that’s his name. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble for—”

“Henry’s a bully,” Steve said firmly. “He should learn to be nice.”

Louie smiled softly, then turned to Bucky, giving him a small “thanks” before walking away.

“So, Steve, right?” Bucky asked, turning towards the blonde, extending his hand. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes.”

Steve snorted. “Thatsa mouthful.”

“But there’s a lot of James’s,” Bucky said, frowning. “And a lot of Jimmy’s.”

Steve’s eyes shifted thoughtfully. “Hmmm.... Buchanan… Bucky! You’re Bucky!”

“Okay. I’m Bucky.”

It was still dark when Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. His chest rose and fell slowly as he rubbed his face, his eyes trying to adjust. Normally, he’d difficulty recalling dreams, or he’d wake up thrashing and screaming from a nightmare. But Bucky and Steve’s first meeting, that fond memory, was by far the best thing he’d dreamt of since being brought out of the ice. He smiled softly, thinking back on that day. If his memory was correct, Steve ended up losing one of his front teeth, but that just made his smile more endearing. It’s amazing, how he could still see that Steve from nearly a century ago so clearly.

After everything he endured, nothing could take truly Steve away from Bucky.

He sat up on his cot and stretched, now unable to fall back asleep. From his room he could hear the faint clattering bells that he tied around his goats. Bucky crept out of his hut, trying to count the herd, making sure everyone was accounted for.

“Seven, eight… nine? Where the hell are you?”

Bucky sighed as he stepped out, squinting his eyes. “C’mon, you little ass, where are you?”

_Bleeh!_

Bucky turned his head, spotting a small, white ball of fluff running around in a circle. He brought his forefinger and thumb to his mouth, whistling for the tiny goat to come back. Its ears perked up, but ultimately, it chose to run trot off in the opposite direction.

“Hey! You!”

In the darkness, Bucky ran, blindly following the soft bleats. These goats didn’t have a care in the world, but for the moment, Bucky felt that this is where he belonged.

For once, Steve was glad to have a day off. Over the past several months, he was assigned back to back missions—though they weren’t exhausting—and social events. Normally, Steve didn’t mind the social events, especially ones that involved children. He loved seeing their faces beaming with admiration and their eyes filled with wonder. If anything, Steve hated doing talk shows and interviews. The blaring lights were too hot and he couldn’t be Steve Rogers for the cameras—he was always Captain America. Every sentence, every word had to be carefully selected if he didn’t want a barrage of unwanted follow-up questions.

* * *

As soon as he finished showering, Steve got dressed and left his apartment. It’d been too long since he went to Coney Island, and it was about time he revisited one of the few things he had fond memories of. Normally, Steve rode his bike everywhere. But this time, he wanted a change of pace, a change of scenery, so he hopped on the D train. With the screeching of the tracks and overlapping conversations, Steve hoped that everyone else was minding their own business enough to not recognize him. He didn’t mind the occasional picture or quick “hello’s;” one on one’s were a lot easier to deal with. But being on a train where if one person pointed him out and everyone else turns their heads in his direction… Steve didn’t want that. At least, not today.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, noticing a new message.

**Bucky Barnes**  

> hope you slept okay  
> i got up early, took a pic of the sunrise

There were no words to describe Wakanda’s radiance. Although Bucky tried to capture the nation’s beauty, Steve was sure that the sunrise was more lovely in person. Regardless, he was happy to know that Bucky got to experience the sun climbing over the horizon. Steve smiled, typing a reply.

**Steve Rogers**

> It’s beautiful.  
> But really, you should sleep more.

**Bucky Barnes**

> couldn’t  
>  one of the goats got out  
> he’s a stubborn punk, so i’m calling him steeb

**Steve Rogers**

> Oh yeah?  
> Glad to hear lil’ Steeb is giving you some excitement.

**Bucky Barnes**

> as if you aren’t enough to keep me on my toes

 

Steve chuckled. Today was going to be a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! This took a bit longer than expected, but I've been pretty busy. I'm writing for several events—the Shrinkyclinks Fest, the Shrunkyclunks Big Bang, the Stucky Big Bang and the Bucky Barnes Bingo. Not to mention all the other fics I wanna write because my attention span is shit. After this update, I want to post every Friday, but we'll see how that goes (fingers crossed)!
> 
> Anyways, I forgot to mention where the title comes from—[Harvest Moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDzHhqWZMD0) by Neil Young. It's a nice song to slow dance too and I think it's really sweet. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this! I appreciate all the comments and kudos <3  
> Feel free to poke at me on [tumblr](http://www.marvelling-you.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

Coney Island had definitely changed. There were more rides and the sea of people was endless. But the sense of happiness and enjoyment was the same. As the sun started to set, Steve sat down on the beach, picking a secluded spot. He was overwhelmed by all of the resurfacing memories and the desire to make new ones to make new ones. But he couldn’t do that, not now when he was by himself. 

During one of the weekly dinners Steve had with the rest of the Avengers, the kid from Queens—Peter?—brought up the idea of a “team building exercise.” In other words, a field trip where they could go on all the rides until sundown. When Project: Avengers’ Day Out was first proposed, everyone was on board. However, it was a matter of making time. Peter was still in high school, so he had obligations that were out of their control. Fundraisers and other philanthropic events were booked and to no one’s surprise, Project: ADO was put on the back burner. 

Waves lapped against the shore. Steve focused on the water, watching as the tide inched further along the sand. His mind wandered, going to where he physically couldn’t be. Somewhere, beyond the horizon, Bucky was breathing, living, healing. That was all Steve needed.

As Steve stood up, he patted down his jeans in hopes of brushing off all the sand. He made his way back to the boardwalk, but stopped to look back at the shore. Without a second thought, Steve pulled out his phone. 

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey Buck. Just wanted to share this with you.  
>  Maybe we can visit Coney Island together?  
>  At least we can finally afford Nathan’s hot dogs.

* * *

 

Morning came sooner than expected. Sunlight filtered through the curtains as Steve stirred in his sleep, slowly coming back to the waking world. He savored the smoothness of the sheets and the softness of his pillow. But what broke Steve back into reality was the warmth around his waist. Eyes half open, he found himself being pulled until his back met with something? Someone? Steve wasn’t sure until he felt a soft breath against the crook of his neck.

“Hmm… mornin’ Steve.”

Steve knew that voice anywhere.

“Buck?” He asked as the other man tightened his grip. “When’d you get here?”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Bucky murmured, pressing his lips against Steve’s neck, making the blonde shiver. “I’ve always been here.” Another kiss. “Always.” Bucky’s hand traveled from Steve’s stomach up towards his chest, resting it right over Steve’s heart. “I’m always here… aren’t I?”

Bucky’s question held no doubt. If anything, he sounded so sure, so confident. Steve nodded, his cheeks growing red.

“Yeah,” he answered. “You are.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle before rolling over so that he straddled Steve’s hips. His hair was a mess of dark locks, and those eyes—Steve always adored those eyes. Leaning forward, Bucky peppered kisses from Steve’s forehead, down his nose, to his cheeks before planting a quick peck on his lips.

“My Stevie,” Bucky said, smiling as his kisses moved down Steve’s neck.

He surrendered himself, but not in defeat. Steve was simply returning home.

* * *

 

Steve’s heart raced when he jolted awake. He brought his hand to his face and pressed his fingers against his warm cheeks. It was just a dream, he realized. He rubbed his eyes, feeling hazy and… betrayed? Steve couldn’t put a name to what the tangled mess of emotions stirring in his chest. If possible, he wanted to fall asleep and go back to where he was, in bed with…

_ Oh, god. _

Nope. No. This wasn’t happening. He did not just have a dream of sweet, domestic bliss with his best friend—not that being domestic was unfamiliar. After all, they lived together in order to afford rent, food, and well, everything. However, Steve knew this was  _ different _ . It gave him butterflies, it made his heart flutter. But more than anything, the dream drove a single thought into his head repeatedly.

_ This… this could actually happen. This was in the realm of possibilities. This was _ —

Steve shook his head. Is this what he wanted? Was this even okay? What did Bucky mean to him? Of course, Steve would do anything for Bucky—give up his life, burn the world,  _ anything _ . He’d even leave Bucky alone, if that’s what he really wanted. But what did any of that mean? What drove his devotion, his loyalty?

He thought back on his conversation with Natasha.

“Someone with shared life experience… huh.”

But Steve needed to confer with someone, to make sense of all of this.  
  
 **Steve Rogers**

> Sam, I’ve got a problem. Talk to me ASAP?

**Sam Wilson**

> Hey! You’re lucky I’m still awake.  
>  What’s up?

**Steve Rogers**

> I don’t know how to say this.

**Sam Wilson**

> Dude I’m here for you. You can tell me anything and if I can’t help I’ll let you know

**Steve Rogers**

> No judgement?

**Sam Wilson**

> None at all. What do you take me for?

**Steve Rogers**

> I had this dream and uh

He needed to find the right words.

> I think I like Bucky. I mean  _ like _ like Bucky.

It was close, but not quite.

> I love Bucky
> 
> Oh my god. I’m in love with Bucky

_ Fuck _ . That’s what this was—love. Steve nearly dropped his phone, not expecting a call from Sam.  _ Oh, great. This is where the friendship ends _ . He sighed, answering the call. “Hello?”

“It took you  _ this _ long to figure that out?!” Sam’s deafening voice made Steve pull his phone away from his ear. 

“What the hell is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I mean, the whole ‘I’m gonna go to the ends of the earth to bring him back’ and ‘even when I had nothing I had Bucky’ … I don’t know. That just screamed love.”

“But friends help each other out! You can’t turn your back on a friend.” Steve countered. “... and friends love each other, right?”

Sam sighed. “Steve, I love you, but not like  _ that _ . What you and Bucky have is something more. Are you, y’know, gonna tell him?”

“What? Of course not!” Steve bit his lower lip. “He’s just getting better. I’m not gonna just throw this at him. Besides, I just want him to be happy. As long as Bucky’s happy, that’s enough for me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I’m backing you up. I’ll be your  _ wingman. _ ”

Steve rolled his eyes, picturing Sam sporting a proud, toothy, shit-eating grin. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Of course. But it’s pretty late. Talk to you later, man. Get some sleep”

After hanging up, Steve slouched in his bed, rubbing his face with his hand.

_ Oh god _ , he thought.  _ I’m in love. _

And he had it bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 12:30am, so there's bound to be mistakes. And I see Avengers: Endgame in about ten hours, so RIP. I just wanna give a shoutout to everyone in the Stucky Big Bang chat, because y'all are wonderful.
> 
> Sorry this took a bit to update. With all the stucky writing fests and some ideas I've been planning out... well, my attention span is muy crazy. But I'm gonna do my best to update this fic every Friday! 
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life!  
> Hit me up on [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com)!


	6. Chapter 6

Steve didn’t know what to think when he heard a knock at the door. He definitely didn’t remember ordering anything as of late. When he checked through the peephole, he was surprised to see three familiar faces—Sam, Clint and Natasha. His friends waved, as if they could see him. Steve heaved a sigh of relief as he unlocked the door and opened it.

“We come bearing breakfast!” Clint announced, raising one of the grocery bags.

“Well, we got the ingredients for the best brunch  _ ever _ .” Sam smiled. “I mean, if you do that kind of thing.”

“Alright, come on in.” Steve opened the door wider and stepped aside to give them room to enter his apartment. Both Sam and Clint marched over towards the kitchen, but Natasha took her time.

“Congrats, by the way.” Natasha said, playfully bumping against Steve’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear you figured things out.”

“Um, what?” Steve shut the door behind them. “Figured out what?”

“Y’know. About Barnes,” she beamed. 

Against his will, Steve’s bashfulness showed, his light complexion reddening. He turned to Sam, who smirked.

“Y-You  _ told _ them?!” Steve sputtered.

Clint smiled as he unpacked the milk and eggs. “We kinda knew it. But it’s nice that you know.”

Natasha nodded, then smiled. “We just wanted you to figure it out for yourself.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Steve combed his hand through his hair. “And how long have you guys known?”

“After setting you up on a date failed, you said you wanted someone with ‘shared life experience’. Can’t think of anyone else that was frozen and woke up in the 21st century.”

“Technically,” Clint added, cracking some eggs into a bowl. “HYDRA kept taking him on and off the ice, but y’know… details.”

“Speakin’ of details,” Sam said. “Don’t over-whisk those eggs and keep an eye on the bacon.”

In the next several minutes, Steve’s apartment was filled with an inviting, savory-sweet aroma. Bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, waffles, sliced cantaloupe and honeydew, complete with coffee. As Steve set up the table, his eyes widened at the piles of food. Sam seemed to notice, chuckling softly.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen how much you can put away.” 

They settled at the table, as best a they could. The four of them were cramped together since Steve lived alone and didn’t have a need for a family-sized dining table. As much as they were bumping elbows and nearly knocking coffee mugs, brunch was comfortable. Despite the unanticipated visit, Steve appreciated the time and effort his friends put into seeing him. He was all too aware of his “married to the job” status, and it was a part of him that he was trying to change. Well, not change, exactly. If anything, he just needed to make room for relaxation. Yes, the world will always need saving. But that didn’t mean Steve Rogers couldn’t enjoy some down time.

“I got a question,” Sam said, chewing the last bite of toast from his plate. “How’d you figure out… y’know, about Bucky?”

“Do tell,” Clint said as he took a sip of coffee. “Give us all the deets!”

“Oh, um.” Steve felt his ears warming. “I had a dream. We, uh, kissed.”

“Awww, look at our boy.” Clint grinned. “Our Cap is growin’ up!”

Sam elbowed Steve’s side and raised an eyebrow, his lips pulling into a sly grin. “Did anything  _ else _ happen?”

“That’s all that happened!” At least, Steve was sure of it. “ _ Why _ would anything else happen?!” Was Steve that naive? No. But did he want to think about it? No, not really. Steve knew deep down that if he let his mind wander too far, there’d be no going back. Seeing Bucky in  _ that _ way was too much, too fast.

Natasha reached across the table and flicked both Sam and Clint on the forehead. “Stop teasing him so much, you guys!” She turned back towards Steve and smiled, as if to say  _ take your time _ . 

Although Sam and Clint stopped their teasing for the day, they picked up from where they left off a few nights later, during the weekly Avengers Friday Dinner. Steve couldn’t decide what was worse: Natasha’s previous attempts to find him a date or having  _ everyone _ (except Thor, who had other obligations) poking fun at him. 

“So,” Tony said, grabbing another bottle of beer. “When are you planning on visiting Mr. Winter Wonderland?”

Steve took a bite of his pizza and chewed thoughtfully. “I haven’t really thought that far.”

“Are… are you serious?” Tony looked to the others for some form of validation. Everyone else seemed to be just as confused.

“Look, I appreciate the support,” Steve began. “But one, I don’t know if he feels the same and two, I don’t wanna put this on him when he’s still working on himself.”

“Bold of you to assume he can’t handle it.” Clint smirked as he and Natasha fist bumped.

“He’s right.” Bruce chimed in. “You’re not gonna know until you tell him.”

Steve sighed. “So, what? I just fly over to Wakanda with some flowers and say ‘Hey, Buck, I got some news: I’ve loved you since the 30s’?” With everyone’s gaze on him, Steve’s eyes widen in realization. Before ten seconds ago, he had never admitted his feelings out loud. At least, he never dropped the L-bomb outside of that text to Sam. He had feelings for Bucky? Yes. He’d like to be with Bucky? Without question. But to hear himself say it out loud? I. Love. Bucky. That made it feel more real, more absolute.

Everyone “awwwwwed” in unison as Steve sank further in his seat.

“Besides,” Steve said under his breath. “I don’t have a lot to offer.”

Tony nearly spat out his beer. “Excuse me? You? Steve Rogers? Captain America? The Star Spangled Man With a Plan has _nothing_ to offer?”

“Sure, I’m Captain America,” Steve said, almost with bitterness. “But when I’m Steve… I’m not much.”

Clint balled up his napkin and threw it, hitting Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t give us that crap!”

“If you really feel that way,” Natasha offered. “Figure out who Steve Rogers is. Who were you before the serum?”

Steve shrugged, his mouth twisting. “A sick kid from Brooklyn that drew when the cold didn’t hurt my joints.”

Tony snickered. “God, you sound like an old man.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Tony, then gave his suggestion with care. “Then get back to drawing. Go to an art store and get your ass some pencils and paints. Go to the Met. Find a place and sketch what you see.”

“Just try it out for a few days.” Bruce said. “You could go to Central Park, the High Line and just draw.”

“And what?” Steve countered. “Sit back while you guys go out on missions?”

Tony threw his hands up in the air. “Oh, for the love of god,  _ yes _ . You’re what? A hundred years old?” He walked over to Steve and patted his shoulder. “The world isn’t gonna end if you laid back for… a week? A month? If we really need you, you’ll know.”

“It’s okay to figure this stuff out.” Sam said, smiling. “So take it easy, okay?”

Suddenly, Steve went back in time to that thin teenager that was in awe of every painting he came across. Finding himself and learning comfortable with who he is… maybe Steve needed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Here we are, with the team telling Steve to get out there and get his man! I know we haven't had a lot of Bucky but fear not! The next chapter is gonna be centered around him and Shuri!
> 
> Not gonna lie, I'm still reeling a bit from Endgame and I'm gonna see it again on Sunday. Wish me luck? 
> 
> Also, if you guys want something with a little more angst, take a peek at my ongoing [Sufjan Stevens Inspired stucky fics](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344085). If you've heard Sufjan's music, there's a lot of gay and sad feels. I'm also working on a pretty dark 1940s stucky fic because why not? But don't worry, where the music's playing is gonna have a lot of fluffiness! 
> 
> See y'all next update!


	7. Chapter 7

Every day that passed, Bucky grew more and more surprised at how farm life came easy to him. He rose with the sun, checked the crops, tended to the goats, then went back to his hut and relaxed. Every now and then he’d venture into the city, taking in the sights and sounds, but he found peace in coming back to his humble home. Aside from the village kids coming by to play with him, Shuri visited often as both a doctor and a friend. They sat by the lake, relaxing as the sun sat on the horizon, tinting the sky in lovely shades of oranges, purples and blues.

“So,” Shuri began. “How are you in the boyfriend?”

Bucky’s eyes widened as his face tinted red. His throat tightened and his ears grew warm. “E-Excuse me?”

Shuri smiled, her eyes shining. “Don’t think you can fool me. I’m not the leading scientist and the head of technological research for nothing. Have you been talking with him lately?”

“Yeah, a lot actually.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “But he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends. Best friends.” And maybe that was enough, to be best friends. Hell, they were lucky enough to meet again in the 21st century. Sure, it wasn’t in ideal circumstances, but Bucky wouldn’t change a thing if it meant that he and Steve could be near each other again. 

A smirk pulled at Shuri’s lips. “Mhmm.”

“What?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“You know people are more accepting now, right?” she asked. He nodded, vaguely understanding what she meant. “And it’s okay if you like him.”

“Oh, I like him alright,” Bucky said. “Just not in that way.”

“If you say so.” The princess lifted her wrist, fiddling with her kimoyo beads. “But for the record, I think he likes you, and I have proof.” Before Bucky could protest, Shuri pressed on one of the kimoyo beads, bringing up several files. “Whenever he visited, which was  _ a lot _ … well, I’ll just show you. Exhibit A.”

Bucky stared intently at the archived footage. Steve stood in front of the cryo pod, hand pressed up against the glass. He seemed to be saying something, but judging from the camera angle, Shuri was too far away to pick up what Steve was saying. 

“Now, Exhibit B.”

The next video showed Steve sitting next to the pod, open book in hand. This time, the audio feed could pick up what Steve was saying. Bucky squinted his eyes, reading the title of the book:  _ The Three-Body Problem _ .

“I remember you like this kind of stuff,” Steve said quietly, in reverence. “This was recommended to me, but I think you’d enjoy it more. Now, where did we leave off? Oh, here we are…”

Bucky smiled. Steve was being so sweet and thoughtful. He didn’t have to visit him at all, given that Bucky wasn’t an active participant in their “conversations.” But Steve made an effort anyways. Whether it was for Bucky’s sake or his own didn’t matter much to the brunette.

“Here’s Exhibit C.”

This time, Steve took a seat directly in front of Bucky. He had a sketchbook with him and a small pencil case. Bucky remembered the art classes Steve took, and how much of a natural he was—and still is. For ease, Shuri zoomed in on the page Steve was fixated on. Though the lines were light at first, Steve deepened each stroke of his pencil, looking up at Bucky on occasion. Shuri chuckled as she sped up the footage to show Bucky the final product: a portrait of himself, and it was damn near perfect from the curved lines to the sharp edges.

“You seriously recorded all of this? Bucky asked.

“Yes,” Shuri said, still smiling. “Exhibit D is the best one.”

The video showed Steve sitting next to the pod with his arms crossed over his chest. He was leaning against the pod, eyes closed and his face completely relaxed. He was breathing steadily, though his mouth twitched once or twice. But other than that, he looked so at peace, so _ beautiful _ . His appreciation of Steve’s face was cut short, however, as Shuri pressed a kimoyo bead.

“In conclusion, Captain Rogers loves you.” She sounded so sure, so confident. Bucky shrugged, having doubts.

“So let’s go with that… theory,” he said. “Even if he did love me—like you’re saying he does—he’s not gonna get much out of it. I’m…” Bucky motioned towards himself. “I’m me.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” In jest, Shuri whacked his shoulder. “You’re not broken. You were dealt a terrible hand, but now the tides have turned. You’re a good person, Sergeant Barnes. You’re allowed to love and you deserve love.”

Bucky blinked slowly, taking in the weight of Shuri’s words. She smiled with such conviction, that he almost believed her. Just as Bucky had told Steve, even if he wasn’t in control, all the crimes were committed with  _ his _ hands. But if both Steve and Shuri had confidence in him, maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“... so you really think he loves me?”

Shuri patted his back, grinning.

“Without a doubt.”

The concept of love was elusive. He had crushes in the past and was known for sweet talking girls—although that was a bit hazy, even with his memories restored. But love was stronger, had more gravity. Steve did so much for Bucky, more than what Bucky felt he could give in return. Steve believed in him when everyone else wanted him either in captivity or dead. But even before this new life, Steve was the only one who saw Bucky for who he was, in all his strengths and flaws. 

Bucky smiled softly. 

“That’d be nice, ‘cause I love that punk.”

“I know, Sergeant Barnes. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! So now the century-old dorks are aware of how they feel about one another.
> 
> Anyone else upset about what the Russo Bros are saying about our boy Bucky? Yeah, fuck that noise.


	8. Chapter 8

This was the third week Steve spent his Friday at Central Park, sketching random people that went about their day. The last time he did anything artistic was a few days after he was brought out of the ice. But once Steve picked up a pencil, making small strokes against a fresh page, muscle memory took over. Although his sketches were simple, going in with watercolors gave each page elegance and grace. Other than people, Steve loved to draw cityscapes. He’d sit at a cafe or a public seating area, focusing on architecture, both new and old. But if he ran short on time, he’d take a picture with his phone, then use it as a reference. Steve dabbled with oil paints in his apartment, often peering out his window, studying the horizon. He knew some artists take out their easels and canvases outside, but he didn’t half have the confidence they did.

Despite the uncertainty, Steve grew to be more comfortable with drawing in front of his  team family. Once in a while, he’d sketch Tony and Bruce working in the lab, Sam cooking, or Natasha and Clint bantering. Both Sam and Clint tease him, offering to pose so that Steve could draw them like “one of his French girls,” though Steve would take their offers seriously. In the end, everyone got scheduled for a portrait.

“Hey, so,” Tony said, clapping his hands together. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen, eating lunch. “I have an idea.”

Clint snorted. “That sounds promising.”

“Ha, ha.” Tony rolled his eyes, then put his hand to his chest in mock pain. “My ideas are always brilliant, Legolas. Apparently, our Golden Boy is an artistic prodigy.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Steve looked up from his sketchbook and shrugged. “And I’m alright.” 

“Steve, you’re not just  _ alright _ .” Sam took a bite from his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “You’ve got museum level skills.”

Tony snapped his fingers with enthusiasm. “Exactly! What I was thinking, Steve-o,” he placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Is that you can whip up some stuff we can auction off, and donate the proceeds.”

Steve’s mouth twisted. As much as he loved the thought of doing charity work, who would want something  _ Steve Rogers _ made. Sure, his pieces might hold value knowing that they were made by  _ Captain America _ . But wouldn’t that demean his work? Maybe it was just his artistic soul, but Steve would rather someone value his art based on aesthetic and skill, rather than being considered another Captain America product.

Natasha peeked over Steve’s shoulder, staring intently at his sketch of the common room. He almost pulled the sketchbook to his chest, but relaxed when he saw her smile. “That’s amazing, Steve.”

“Really?” His gaze went back to the page, going over every line intently.

“Pretty sure something like that could sell,” Sam said. 

“See, Cap?” Tony grinned. “Whaddaya say? You up to the challenge?”

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Halfway through dinner and mindless doodling, Steve got a message from Bucky, asking if they were going to have their usual video call. He smiled down at his phone, let Bucky know that he was ready. As always, Bucky called right away. A few seconds before Steve answered, he combed a hand through his hair, hoping he looked okay.

“Hey, Stevie!” On Bucky’s end of the call, the camera jittered until it settled, focusing on his face. To Steve’s surprise, Bucky’s face was bruised, with a few cuts on his cheek.

“Buck, what the hell happened to your face?”

Bucky’s eyes shifted from side to side. “Let’s just say that lil’ Steeb didn’t wanna cooperate with me,” he explained. “So I got kicked in the face.”

Despite his best efforts to keep his amusement bottled in, Steve laughed. “Sorry. Just the thought of you crouchin’ down and gettin’ kicked—”

“—eh, you’re not the first person.” Bucky gave him a crooked smile. “Princess Shuri and Okoye couldn’t stop laughing either.”

“I’m assuming that Steeb’s rebellion hasn’t convinced you to quit.”

“What do you take me for?” Bucky chuckled. “I’m a responsible parent, Steve. I’m not gonna abandon my kids.”

Steve smirked. “You’re right, what on earth was I thinking? Anyways, how’ve you been?”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothin’ new on my end. Therapy’s been goin’ well though.”

“Glad to hear.” Steve took a sip of water, then looked down at his sketchpad. 

“Whatcha got there?”

Steve shook his head. “Nothing much. Just a sketchbook.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up. “You’re drawing again?”

“Yeah.” Steve leaned back in his seat. “Tony thinks we should hold a charity auction, but I don’t think anyone would bid on my stuff.”

“I think you should do it,” Bucky said, smiling. “You’ve always been a great artist.”

Steve’s cheeks tinted pink as his heart rate picked up. “Y’think so?”

“Steve, you vastly outdid everyone in our painting class. If the war didn’t happen, you’d be famous.”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far… but I’ll do it. After all,  _ you _ believe in me.”

“I’m glad to hear that my word means somethin’.” Bucky looked at him expectantly. “So… are you gonna show me the stuff you’ve done so far?”

Steve nodded, flipping through his sketches with care. Although he was sure Bucky would be happy with anything, Steve wanted to show his absolute best. He stopped at his sketch of the Brooklyn Bridge, colored in with sunset hues.

“Here.” Steve turned the sketchbook around, trying to hold it as still as possible so that the camera could focus. Bucky squinted, but grinned immediately. 

“See? That’s my Stevie.”

Steve swallowed hard as he tried to keep his hands from trembling. He placed his sketchbook down, struggling to look at Bucky’s face. “You… uh, think it’s that good?”

“Of course I do.” Bucky cleared his throat. He went on, reminiscing about the art class they took together, but Steve found himself stuck on two words—”my Stevie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Hope everyone's enjoying their weekend. Happy Mother's Day to any mothers reading! I meant to post this on Friday night, but it being springtime and all, I was assaulted by pollen and had to sleep off my allergies RIP
> 
> I'm still trying to keep the updates on a schedule, and so far I'm surprising myself with actually sticking to it, for the most part. I just wish my attention span could stick with one story at a time, instead of starting several fics/series at once. 
> 
> Hopefully y'all liked this chapter. See you guys next time!


	9. Chapter 9

To Steve’s surprise, the auction had a decent turnout—well, decent in Tony’s words. Steve, on the other hand, was flustered at the number of people that walked about the rented studio, gathering at the canvases. He didn’t consider his works to be any special. After all, Steve was sure that people came because of his icon status. If he was just plain ol’ Steven Grant Rogers

“Hey, stop that.” Sam whacked Steve’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” Steve half-shouted, half-whispered.

“You didn’t need to.” Sam smiled. “You worked hard on this. If it makes you feel better, this isn’t for you. This is for the children’s hospital and the VA you’re gonna donate to. You’re still helping people.”

Steve drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His palms were damp with sweat and his heartbeat thrummed in his ears. He jumped at the feedback from the stereo system. Tony stood at the podium, adjusting his tie and clearing his throat.

“May I have your attention please,” he said, waiting for everyone to turn their heads toward him. “Thank you for being here tonight. I’d like to give some time to the man of the hour, Steve Rogers!”

He wanted to punch that perfect, for-the-media smile off of Tony’s face. The room roared with applause. He turned towards his family, who gave him nods of approval. Steve didn’t prepare a single thing—not that he ever did. But this was too much, this was—

“You’re gonna do great.” Natasha smiled at him and pushed him lightly towards the podium. “Now go up there.”

Steve gulped as he stepped up to the podium. For the cameras, he shook Tony’s hand, but the look in Tony’s eyes were reassuring, that he’s happy for his friend. Steve adjusted the microphone. 

_ I can do this. _

“Good evening, everyone,” he said. “Thank you again for taking the time to attend the auction. Today, I’m standing before you not as Captain America or Captain Rogers. I’m here as Steve Rogers, an artist from Brooklyn. Before I was chosen for Erskine’s project, I was an art student. As everyone knows, I was a skinny, sickly kid. There were many times where my ma thought I would die in my sleep.” He allowed himself to breath in and out, to calm himself. “There’s very little you can do when you’re bedridden, so I pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, and started drawing. I’d sketch the view from my window, Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island… and once I attended college, I learned how to paint. The pieces I’ve done for tonight’s auction reflect my experience, of waking up in a new century. I hope everyone here will consider bidding, as the proceeds will go to Morgan Stanley-Komansky Children's Hospital and the VA New York Harbor Health Care System.”

Tony stepped next to Steve, adjusting the microphone.

“With that, let’s start the bidding!”

* * *

 

Today, Bucky spent some time playing with the children that lived nearby. As usual, they teased him, mostly about how much he sucked at kicking the ball and his accent whenever he attempted to speak Xhosa. But it was all in good fun, and Bucky knew that. The kids were never cruel to him, never made fun of his arm—or rather, lack thereof. If anything, some of the teenagers commended him for taking the time to heal, both physically and mentally.

He spent some time thinking about lunch, wondering what he should make. Today was too hot for stew, but he didn’t have ingredients to make anything else. But as he went back to his hut to prepare lunch, Bucky was receiving an incoming call from Steve. Usually, Bucky initiated the calls, but he wasn’t going to start complaining. He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear, then answered the call.

Steve’s end was dark, but it wasn’t hard to make out his face—probably because of the brightness from Bucky’s end. Upon closer inspection, Steve’s eyelids were a little puffed. Was he not getting any sleep?

“Hey Stevie,” Bucky said. “What’s up?”

Steve rubbed his face. “I just got back from the auction.”

Bucky perked up. “How did it go?” To Bucky’s relief, Steve beamed.

“Everything was sold,” he said, brimming with pride. “We raised about 15 million.” 

“That’s great!” 

Steve yawned. “I’m glad. I was so nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” Bucky smirked. “Well, color me surprised.”

“Oh, shut up, jerk.”

“Punk.”

From what Bucky could tell, Steve’s phone was propped up, as Steve crossed his arms in front of him, resting his chin on his forearm. Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“If you want, you can go to bed.”

Steve shook his head, but yawned.. “No, I wanna talk with you,” he murmured. “Please stay?”

Bucky blushed, hoping that Steve was too tired to notice. “Okay, Stevie. I can do that.”

A smile stretched across Steve’s lips as his eyes fluttered close. God, he was so beautiful, so breathtaking. Bucky never understood how girls back in the 40s didn’t throw themselves at him. He had a strong jaw, long lashes and beautiful, captivating blue eyes. Steve was sweet, caring, and always stood up for what was right. So fucking gorgeous, inside and out. As Steve drifted off to sleep, Bucky sighed, content. As selfish as it was, Bucky wanted to keep this sleeping Steve all to himself. 

“I love you, Steve,” his whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for not updating last week. I ended up having a bit of writer's block, but I'm back in action! I hope y'all enjoyed this fic so far! I know it's rated mature, and not a lot of mature things have happened but fear not! There will be light smut in future chapters!
> 
> If y'all want something of a darker variety, check out my other fic, [sing one we know](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792829/chapters/44588821)! 
> 
> Come scream with me about Endgame on [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com/).
> 
> See y'all next time!


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